


Baiting the Trap

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-22
Updated: 2009-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian Edgerton has put away a lot of criminals in his day.  Now one of them is out and he wants revenge so he targets Ian where he's most vulnerable.  Charlie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baiting the Trap

The restaurant Charlie had picked for his dinner with Ian was a nice one. They shared a quiet, intimate dinner. Ian thought the food was excellent but the company even more so. They spent their time talking but also conducting a slow, mutual seduction.

After the bill had been paid, Ian rose and put an arm around Charlie. "It's a nice night. Want to go for a walk?"

"Sure." Charlie smiled and leaned into him, fitting perfectly against Ian's body.

But once they were outside Ian pulled Charlie closer and walked a little faster, trying to use reflective surfaces to watch the people around them. He felt like he was being watched but he couldn't see anyone who stood out.

"Ian?" Charlie asked softly, obviously sensing something amiss.

"Sorry. Thought I felt someone watching me. Must be getting paranoid in my old age," he said lightly.

Charlie automatically darted his eyes around, a ball of trepidation settling in his stomach. Experience had taught him that Ian's instincts were usually correct, but if he thought it was nothing but paranoia, it probably was. "Are you sure that's all it is?" Charlie asked, wrapping himself tighter around Ian.

Ian pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'm sure. Let's just enjoy the night."

"Okay." He waited a beat, then added, "old man."

"Hey!" Ian said, playfully pinching Charlie's side. "Don't forget that this old man can keep up with you pretty handily."

Charlie squeaked and shifted his torso away without actually leaving Ian's side. "You brought it up! But yes, you have the strength, stamina and sex appeal of a man half your age."

"Better," Ian said, pressing another kiss to Charlie's temple.

Rivkin watched through his high-powered lens as the pair passed by him on the street. The little one was lucky that Edgerton was around or he would snatch him up right here. Edgerton had ruined his life, cost him everything, and now he was going to make him suffer the same way he had. And the little professor was the key.

"You know... you could take me home and prove to me just how much stamina you have," Charlie said, grinning.

"I don't know, Charlie, it's such a nice night... we should enjoy it," Ian teased. "Maybe if you persuade me, though?"

Grinning some more, Charlie stopped them on the street and kissed Ian deeply, slipping his hand down into the back pockets of his jeans. "Please, take me home?"

Ian smiled and caressed Charlie's cheek. "Well, when you put it that way..." He kissed Charlie again.

Charlie giggled as the kiss broke, feeling like a teenager. He leaned back into Ian's side as they turned around and headed for Ian's SUV. All thoughts of danger and being watched had been banished by the light, happy feeling between them.

As soon as they were back at the Eppes family home, Charlie dragged Ian back down into a deep, thorough kiss.

Ian knew Alan was in the room but he still returned Charlie's kiss.

"Well, I think that's my cue to return to my apartment. Good night, you two," Alan said.

Charlie broke apart from Ian with a grin. "Night Dad!"

"Good night, Alan," Ian said.

Alan ignored the sound of the two men kissing again almost immediately and just kept looking straight ahead as he climbed the stairs.

This time, it was Ian's turn to chuckle. "We probably shouldn't make a habit out of showing off in front of your Dad," he admonished, only half serious. "I want him to like me and keep letting me stay here."

"Well, liking you is good, but this is my house now. I get to say who stays and who does not," Charlie said, giving Ian another kiss. "And you most definitely have an open invitation."

"Besides, he has his own apartment over the garage. I know he entertains there sometimes. And I do want you here, as much as possible."

"Okay, then," Ian said, stroking his hands up and down Charlie's arms. "Let's go to bed, then," he murmured in Charlie's ear.

Rivkin stood across the street, watching the lights in the downstairs of the old Craftsman house go out one by one. He counted to himself, waiting to see the light go on at the side of the house, the little professor's bedroom. Who would have thought that the great Ian Edgerton would play for the other team? How he ended up with the professor was a mystery, but it worked in his favor. Capturing another agent would have been much harder, but grabbing up one soft little professor was nothing. He couldn't wait to see the look of pain on Edgerton's face.

Charlie loved waking up next to Ian, even if it did mean that he got up earlier than he normally would.

He rolled over, finding Ian already awake as usual. Stretching, he tilted his face up, inviting Ian's kiss. "Mmm, morning."

"Morning, Professor," Ian said, running a hand through his curls. "Sleep well?"

"After you damn near wore me out last night? Of course."

"Only nearly? I'll have to try harder."

"I'm not sure my bed frame can take it," Charlie teased, rolling onto his side so he can kiss Ian properly. It quickly escalates into a deep, passionate kiss, one of Ian's hands sliding into his hair to hold him in place. "Right now, I'm really wishing I didn't have classes to teach," he groaned. "I'd just stay in bed with you all day."

"I like the sound of that." He kissed Charlie again, eager and hungry.

Charlie groaned again, melting automatically into Ian's body. "You are evil, tempting me like this."

"You have time still, before your class, don't you?" Ian said, caressing Charlie's spine with his fingertips, something that never failed to get a shiver out of him. "Let me keep you here just a little longer."

"Mmm, Ian." But Ian had already won and they both knew it. Maybe he could have resisted if his time with Ian wasn't so limited. His gaze did a long, slow trip over Ian's perfectly sculpted chest. Then again, maybe not.

"You are a bad, bad man," Charlie said, laughing softly. "And I love you," he added as he kissed Ian again. His hand slipped under the sheet at Ian's waist, wrapping around his cock and stroking.

Ian gasped, grunting softly into the kiss. "Now who's being bad?" he teased.

"Hey, I'm just following your lead here," Charlie said, nibbling on Ian's neck.

He stroked Ian languidly, watching as the pleasurable reactions danced across Ian's body: his eyes closing first and then his tongue coming out to wet his lips, his hips pushing ever so slightly into his hand. "God, I could watch you like this forever," Charlie murmured, absolutely helpless to keep his mouth off Ian's skin.

"Forever, huh?"

"Absolutely."

"I like the sound of that, too," Ian said, softly. He dragged Charlie up from teasing his nipples with his tongue into a long, possessive kiss. Rolling them gently, he spread Charlie out under him, working a knee between his legs to nudge at the prominent erection. "And I love you, too, Professor."

Charlie smiled and ran his hands lightly up and down Ian's back. "God, you're beautiful."

"So are you," Ian said. He claimed Charlie's mouth, putting a little more fire and passion into it now. He trailed his fingertips down Charlie's chest, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking him firmly.

"Mmm, god, Ian," Charlie moaned.

"Ian. Want you, need you. Inside me, please!"

"Yes, want to be inside you," Ian replied, kissing Charlie again. He grabbed the lube from it's place by the bed and slicked his fingers. Charlie was still a little loose from the night before, but he still started with one finger, drawing out the tease as long as possible.

Charlie moaned his encouragement and pulled Ian down for another kiss.

Ian moved swiftly from one finger to two, waiting until he had three inside him to stroke over Charlie's prostate. He swallowed Charlie's moan with a passionate kiss, not sure yet if Alan was awake.

As soon as his three fingers were moving easily, he slicked his cock, pushing deep inside Charlie in one easy thrust. "Charlie!"

"Ian!" Charlie responded. He held himself still for a moment, fingers digging into Ian's back as they both adjusted. "Fuck me!"

"Yes, god, yes." Ian braced one hand against the bed and set a fast, hard rhythm, fucking Charlie just as he'd demanded. There was nothing that felt better than being inside Charlie, sliding hard and fast into him.

Charlie moaned and wrapped his legs around Ian. His hands still clutched at his powerful back and he tilted his head back, exposing his throat. Ian immediately fastened his lips on it, sucking hard.

"Oh, god! God, Ian," Charlie cried. "Oh please. I need to come. Make me come, Ian."

Ian growled and freed one hand to stroke Charlie's cock while he angled his hips to hit his prostate with every thrust.

Charlie's eyes slammed shut and he bit his lip, trying to contain his cry as his orgasm slammed into him hard.

"Easy, baby. I've got you," Ian murmured. His body shook with the strain of holding back his own orgasm as he tried to calm Charlie.

Charlie took a deep breath and opened his eyes with an effort, shaking through the last of the intense endorphins. And he took another. "Come for me, Ian. Come for me."

Ian bit his lip to keep himself quiet and came, careful not to put his full weight on Charlie as he collapsed.

Stroking Ian's back, Charlie whispered nonsense in his ear as he helped him come down. "Shh, that's it, god you feel so good."

Ian took several deep breaths, getting himself under control. Finally, he lifted his head and gave Charlie another long, deep kiss. "That was perfect. Love you so much."

"I love you, too." He ran a hand through Ian's sweaty hair. "I really don't want to move, but if I don't I'll be late. Want to join me in the shower?"

"I think the only possible answer to that question is 'Hell, yes'," Ian said, grinning. He pushed himself out of bed and offered a hand down to help Charlie out of bed. They kissed and groped through the task, Ian trying not to impede Charlie too much.

Fingally, Charlie was dressed and ready to get out the door. Ian kissed him one more time. "Have a good day, Professor. I'll see you tonight."

"See you then. Love you," Charlie said, cheerfully waving goodbye.

"Love you, too," Ian said, grinning at his lover's retreating back.

He went for a long run and helped Alan out in the yard before showering and stopping in at the FBI building to see if Don needed any help, despite the fact that he was supposed to be on a mandatory two weeks' leave. Things were quiet, so he got caught up with the team and returned to the Craftsman to make dinner. Alan had plans to be out for the evening, so Ian started preparing a nice, quiet meal for just him and Charlie. He hummed to himself as he worked, looking at the clock. He knew better than to actually put the food in the oven, though, until Charlie called to say he was leaving. One over-cooked, nearly burnt, meal was lesson enough.

After the first hour passed Ian wasn't terribly concerned. It wouldn't be the first time Charlie'd had some brilliant idea he'd needed to work out and completely lost track of time. Just because Ian was visiting didn't mean his life stopped. After a second hour passed he began to feel uneasy, remembering his feeling of being watched the other night. He'd passed it off as paranoia but maybe he'd been too hasty. He called Charlie's cell.

There was no answer, which honestly wasn't all that unusual. He left a message, tapping the phone against his chin after he hung up. Playing a hunch, he called Don. "Hey, Don, it's Ian. Have you seen or heard from Charlie?"

"No, I thought he'd be spending all his free time with you. Did you guys have a fight or something?"

"No. He had classes to teach all day and he was supposed to come home for dinner. I called his cell but I just got voicemail. And before you say it, yes, I know how Charlie is when he gets wrapped up in his work. But he was supposed to be home over two hours ago now, and..." Ian hesitated.

"And?"

"I think someone was watching me the other night. I'm worried."

There was a moment of silence. "Okay, before we get everybody all panicked, why don't you head to CalSci to see if he's there and I'll join you."

As soon as Ian parked the car, he ran straight for Charlie's office, silently hoping that he'd find him there with his headphones on and covered in chalk dust. He rounded the corner and skidded to a halt just inside Charlie's door: empty.

"Charlie?" he called out, just in case he wasn't immediately obvious. No answer. Check the parking lot.

Faculty parking was on the opposite side of the building from visitor parking, and Ian double-timed it there. What he saw when he came around the corner made his blood run cold. The windows of Charlie's Prius had been smashed and the smooth blue panels had deep, angry slashes in them. A piece of paper duct taped to the frame flapped in the breeze.

Ian didn't remove it. There might be evidence. But he could still read it. It had a single line type-written across it:

"I have your professor. Come and find me."

Ian felt sick but knew he had to keep it together, had to keep calm or he'd be of absolutely no use to Charlie. This was his fault. He never should have ignored his instincts.

He started compiling a mental list of suspects even as he put a call in to Don. "Charlie's gone," Ian said when Don answered the phone. "Someone took him, Don. He's gone."

Don's heart nearly stopped in his chest. "I'm almost to CalSci. Where are you?"

"Faculty parking lot, next to Charlie's car."

Don pulled up a few minutes later, the lights on his SUV still flashing. "I've called in the rest of the team. Tell me what you know."

Ian told Don about his date with Charlie and feeling like he was being watched. "Other than that, I know what you know. Charlie came to work today, and some time this evening, he was abducted. There are a few people I've hunted over the years who weren't kills. All of them were supposed to be lifers, but you know how that gets fucked up now and then. The Bureau is supposed to tell me if someone gets out, or escapes, but I haven't heard anything specific."

"Could be a family member, too. Or a girlfriend or boyfriend. Start making calls. Wake people up if you have to. Anyone immediately come to mind?"

Ian pulled out his phone and his hand was shaking. He took a deep breath and willed it to stop. "No, not right away. I've put a lot of people away, Don."

Don put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find him. Don't worry."

"Shouldn't I be the one telling you that?"

"You probably will, at some point."

Ian offered a small smile and turned away to start making calls. He could look at the car again after, see if there were signs he'd missed.

His first few calls didn't get him very far. No one seemed to know anything; no one had even overheard anything. But at least people were up and talking and making their own calls now. He called everyone he could think of. There were a couple people who'd been released recently, and he was getting those names sent to him. But there was nothing solid.

Ian flexed his hand next to his side, ready to hit someone, something. Hard.

He should be doing something more than making phone calls. Anyone could make phone calls, although, granted, a lowly intern wasn't going to get the same response that Ian Edgerton was. A lot of people owed him favors and he was more than willing to call in every single mark and put himself in debt if it meant getting Charlie back. But he couldn't make phone calls and scout the scene at the same time and while he knew Don's people were good, and he knew Don was good, he also knew that he'd see things they'd probably miss. There was a reason he was the bureau's best tracker.

Don's team had set up large halogen lights around the scene and Ian started pacing as he waited for his phone to ring. The faculty pavement was dark, recently done over, so that limited any tire tracks. He strolled over to the grassy median that divided up spaces. Some of the blades of grass were disturbed, but there was nothing definitive. He crouched down to take a closer look, and almost missed it. Charlie'd been wearing khaki pants when he'd left that morning and there were some stray threads caught on the rough edge of the concrete. He'd been dragged.

"Don! Don, over here. He was dragged and probably dumped into a van or something parked here," Ian said.

Don didn't bother to ask him if he was sure. Ian looked like he was mostly holding it together, and this was too important for him to fool himself into seeing what he wanted to see.

Walking over, Don collected the threads and put them in an evidence bag. "Do you see anything else?"

Ian shook his head. "The pavement's too dark to see tire tracks. Maybe in the morning. But if Charlie was dragged, then he was unconscious. Docile." Ian swallowed hard. "No blood, so they probably drugged him. Either way there was no need to peel out."

Don immediately squashed the flare up of anger. He had to stay calm, focused. "You know, we may be looking at this wrong. The note might be intended for me, not you. Maybe Charlie was the one being watched last night."

Ian shook his head. "I don't think so. I always call Charlie "Professor"; in fact, I almost never call him Charlie. Anyone who'd been watching us even for a short time would know that. I think whoever did this wants me to suffer, which could indicate a family member, like you said."

Don conceded the point. If it had been directed at him Charlie probably would have been referred to as his brother.

Ian's phone buzzed, and he immediately looked at it. The names of the people who'd been released recently were there. All three were violent, predicate offenders; any one of them could have had the ingenuity and resources to pull this off. He showed the list to Don.

"Okay, we'll start running these names down. Ian..." Don said, hesitating. "There's really not a lot more we can do tonight. I know, time is important..."

"I know." He swallowed. "Have you told Alan?"

Don shook his head. "I thought maybe we should tell him together. He'll--he'll need both of us."

"You don't think he'll blame me? I'd blame me."

"Ian... I know it might be hard to believe, but he thinks of you like a son. He knows you'd never do anything to hurt him. Okay?" Don squeezed Ian's shoulder.

"Okay." But he did blame himself. Charlie was being held, quite possibly tortured because of him. And if he'd just trusted his instincts it never would have happened.

Charlie blinked his eyes open slowly. His head felt like it was packed in cotton, making the unfamiliar surroundings even more disorienting. He stretched, realizing he was on a rough, dirty cot in a small room. There was a serious-looking lock on the door and no windows. The walls looked like they were concrete. He cautiously moved his legs and arms, anticipating feeling pain lace through them.

There were a few twinges and bruises--he was sure he'd been pretty roughly manhandled--but nothing was broken. And he wasn't chained to anything, so he supposed that was good, despite the fact that he was a prisoner. He tried to breathe deeply, keep the panic down. Ian would find him. Ian would always find him.

Ian and Don arrived back at the family home at roughly the same time. Don squeezed Ian's shoulder one more time before they went inside. "Dad? Are you home?"

"Donnie, Ian... where have you been? I came home and all the food was still out, no one was home. I was worried. Where's Charlie?"

"Dad, you should probably sit down."

"Alan--Mr. Eppes, I'm so sorry."

"Where is he?" Alan repeated, doing his best to heep his voice even.

Ian took a deep breath. "He's--missing. He didn't come home and I called Don, went looking for him. We found his car at CalSci..."

"Is he dead?" Alan asked, looking directly at Ian. "Just tell me, Ian."

"Hey, he is not dead, okay, Alan? He's not," Ian said, squeezing Alan's shoulder firmly. "I'm going to find him and get him back. I promise."

We'll find him, Dad," Don echoed. "Ian's going to stay with you while I run down some names."

"I'm okay. Shouldn't you be out--" Alan waved his hand in the air.

"There's not much I can do until daylight," Ian said quietly.

"I see..." Alan said. "Do you know why--why they took him?"

Ian glanced at Don and Don shrugged. "We think they took him to punish me, bait me, maybe... I'm so sorry, Mr. Eppes. It's my fault--"

"Hey, hey," Alan said, putting his hand on Ian's knee. "You are not responsible for the guy who has my son. You're the one best qualified to find him and bring him back. I know you will."

"And you, too, Don. Bring Charlie back."

"We will, Dad. I promise."

....

Charlie automatically glanced at his wrist to determine the time, but his watch had been removed. So had, of course, his wallet, keys, bookbag, and cell phone. He paced the small room, wondering how long it had been since he'd had something to eat.

The bolt on the outside of the door scraped back and Charlie tensed, shrinking back against the wall. A man sauntered in, a vicious smile on his face.

"Well, the little professor is awake. Isn't that nice?" Rivkin said. "In case you're wondering, your boyfriend is probably losing his mind looking for you right now. But he's not going to find you. Not until I'm good and ready for him to."

Charlie swallowed his fear and lifted his chin. "I wouldn't count on that. He's the best tracker the FBI has to offer. And he's motivated."

"Oh, little one, it's his motivation that I am counting on," Rivkin purred. "Now, I haven't hurt you, yet, and I don't see any reason that I'm going to have to unless you decide not to cooperate. You just being in my hands should be enough to get Edgerton to come running. But, you cross me, even a little, just once, and I won't hesitate. I have nothing to lose, little one. Understand that."

Little one? "Why are you doing this?"

"Because your boyfriend cost me everything," Rivkin said. "Because I can."

"And you want me to what? Lure him here to his death?"

"Something like that," Rivkin said. His smile made Charlie's blood run cold.

"Boss, here," said another man, knocking on the door as he came in. He was tall, much taller than Ian, and armed. He handed Rivkin a covered tray and a camera.

"Stand against the wall little one, and smile for the camera," Rivkin ordered.

Charlie hesitated for a moment, debating. But if he was defiant and they hurt him not only would it make it harder to get out of here, but any obvious injury would be that much more likely to make Ian and Don allow anger to influence their actions and they might make a mistake that cost them all. He fervently hoped someone was there to make sure they were acting rationally. David or Colby or Niki or even his Dad, although truth was, his dad was the likeliest candidate for being a basket case. And he probably blamed Ian and/or Don.

He tried very hard not to think about what was under the tray and hoped it was just food. He moved slowly to stand in front of the wall, trying to think of any way to get a message out. But what would he say? Don't come? It's a trap? Ian wasn't stupid, he'd know that. And come anyway.

Rivkin crossed the room in two fast strides, backhanding Charlie across the face. Charlie's nose immediately started dripping blood and his hands flew to his face to try to contain it.

"When I give you an order, you follow it or there's consequences," Rivkin said. "Now up against the wall and take your hands away."

Trembling, Charlie lowered his hands and stood against the wall. He flinched at the camera flash.

"Good boy. Here," Rivkin said, pulling the cloth off from over the tray. "Clean yourself up and eat something."

He slumped in relief when he saw the tray held only food. Possibly drugged food, but still food. He wasn't sure Rivkin was entirely sane.

The door slammed shut and Charlie could hear the bolt slide back into place. His stomach rumbled, and he pulled the tray closer to him. The food was basic, but it was hot. He ate it uneasily, anticipating a drug haze to come over him again. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not when it didn't.

....

Ian passed an uneasy night waiting by his phone and pacing the ground floor of the Craftsman. He caught a few cat naps, but he was too anxious to really sleep.

Around 6 a.m. his phone chirped, letting him know he had a text message.

He hesitated to check it, feeling inherently that it wasn't going to be good, but he finally did. What he saw made his blood boil and he barely restrained himself from throwing it across the room. The picture of Charlie was awful, blood streaming down his face. Clearly they'd hit him, but at least it didn't look like they'd actually broken his nose. There was very little detail about the room, but he was hoping that the FBI techs would find something he couldn't see.

The phone chirped again. "He's alive. For now. Come and find me."

He called Don on the house phone and prayed someone could get something from the text message.

"I'm at the FBI building already, and I'll wake our techs up," Don said. "I'll meet you here in a little bit."

Ian hung up the phone and started looking for his keys. Alan had expelled some nervous energy by cleaning and they weren't where he had left them. He found them in the giant bowl in the front room, where the rest of the family keys went. After he got Charlie back, he might have time to be touched by that small gesture.

He left a note for Alan and high tailed it to the FBI building.

The techs practically met him at the elevator as soon as the doors opened and he handed off the phone. Don started to look over their shoulder as they brought up the message, but Ian put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't really want to see that."

He should have known that Don wouldn't actually be warned off, and he winced internally at the clenched fist and the flush of rage on Don's face.

"Those bastards... those... when I find them, I am going to--"

"Do it to whatever pieces of them are left over," Ian said quietly.

Don looked at him sharply and hustled Ian into the hall. "I know what you're thinking. And God knows, I want them dead, too. But you can't cross that line, Ian. Not even for Charlie."

"I don't want to kill them, Don. I want to hurt them. They put their hands on Charlie, on my Charlie. They drugged him and bloodied him and now they are taunting me with it. I want to cause them pain," Ian said, his voice never raising past a deadly whisper.

Don shook Ian lightly. "Snap out of it, Ian. This is what they want. They want us thinking irrationally, just rushing in blind. All it's going to do is get one of us killed. C'mon. Please."

"When have you ever known me to rush into anything?"

"Never," Don said. "But I also know how having someone you care about, someone you love, involved changes things. We're going to get Charlie back, but not at the expense of your life or career. Charlie wouldn't want me to let you do that."

"How the hell are you so calm? He's your brother!"

Don resisted, barely, the urge to slam Ian against a wall just to show him how not calm he actually was. "Believe me Ian, I want to hunt these fucking people down just as much as you do. But I'm calm because I have to be. Someone has to be! My job is to bring the both of you home safe, okay?"

"Agent Eppes," one of the techs said discreetly. "I think we found something."

Don and Ian stood looking at each other for a moment, barely contained rage boiling just under the surface, then in unison they followed the tech back into the room.

"What is it?" Don asked.

"A series of numbers embedded in picture's data. The person who sent this of course knew we'd be looking to extract more information from it. It seems to be a date: 06171999."

"Does that mean anything to you?" Don asked.

Ian shook his head. "My guess is that it's the date someone was apprehended, killed, or sent to jail. Let's go look at the computer."

The computer spit out half a dozen names of people related to Ian's cases that had actions taken on that date. Two of the names on that list also appeared on Ian's list of people who were recently released: Daniel Barnes and Michael Rivkin. But that didn't rule out family members or close associates of the others.

Ian pulled the Barnes and Rivkin files to refresh his memory.

Barnes was in for kidnapping and murder. They'd never found his victim.

Rivkin had been pulled in for felony drug possession and two counts of murder of other drug dealers.

If he had to bet between the two men, Ian would bet on Barnes to have pulled this off. He had the connections and the ruthlessness. Rivkin, even though he was violent and a predicate drug offender, he had not been a career criminal like Barnes. He'd had a wife and kids, a family and friends who cared about him. Mostly, he had just been someone who's bad decisions had trapped him.

He took the folders to Don. "I think we should look at Barnes first."

Don took the folders from Ian and glanced through them. He nodded as he read Barnes's file. Yeah, this was exactly the kind of scumbag who would do something like this. And if Ian's information was correct, he was out now.

"Yeah. Let's go see if we can rattle some cages on this Barnes guy," Don said, standing. "You good to go with this? Do I need to worry about you?"

"I'm fine, Don." Ian slipped his sunglasses on. "I'm just fine."

"Right." The thing was, he remembered the Crystal Hoyle case. Remembered what he had allowed Ian to do to Buck. He was sure Ian would do that and more to get Charlie back. And he was pretty sure he'd let him.

Ian could tell what Don was worried he would cross the line to get Charlie back. But he really didn't care about that. Charlie was the man he loved; there was nothing in the universe more important than him. He wouldn't hesitate to go as far as needed to get him back. Still, part of what Don said was true. Charlie wouldn't forgive him for sacrificing either his career or his freedom for him. He hoped that when the time came, he'd be able to both get Charlie back and keep his career.

The car ride over was quiet. Ian tried to compartmentalize what was at stake here. Don was right. Getting angry would lead to mistakes, mistakes could lead to Charlie being hurt or killed.

Strangely enough, they found Barnes right where his parole officer had said he would be, a halfway house for recently released felons. It wasn't much of a step-up from prison, but for the released inmates, it was an important step.

Don and Ian found Barnes in a back room, alone.

"Edgerton," Barnes nearly squeaked when he saw the sniper. "What are you--man, I just got out. I haven't done anything!"

"No? I want every detail of what you've done for the last three days. And we'll be verifying your story so it's in your best interest not to lie to me."

Barnes lifted a shaking hand, barely able to get the burning cigarette to his lips to take a drag on it. "Let's see... I threw up for most of the first day, when I wasn't stuck on the pot with the shits. The second day I spent with the sweats, tossing and turning, again when I didn't have the shits. Today I'm able to sit up and if I don't eat anything, I might end up not having the shits all day. Oh, they tell me I was hallucinating, too. Fuck, I don't even know if you two are real. Kicking heroin fucking sucks," he muttered.

The guy sounded genuine to Don, but Ian was the one who had dealt with him before so it was his call.

Edgerton leaned down and he could practically smell the sickness coming off of him in waves. "Vomiting, diarrhea, and hallucinations are the least of what you deserve after what you did to that poor girl," Ian growled in his face.

He turned to Don. "It's not him," he said, and started walking away.

"So now we check out the other guy? Rivkin?"

"Now we start looking into Barnes's friends and family. Just because he didn't do it, doesn't mean someone didn't take it upon themselves to do it for him." Ian glanced back at Barnes over his shoulder. "Wouldn't be surprised if someone close to Barnes blamed me for him ending up like that."

"Right. Where to first?"

They drove around the rest of the day, hitting Barnes's former hang outs, talking to everyone they could track down while the rest of the team worked in the office to get more information. The whole time, Ian could feel the clock ticking, knowing that if they didn't get some sort of lead soon that the chances of Charlie being seriously hurt or killed went up.

....

Charlie passed an uneasy night between the fear and the throbbing in his nose. He knew it was night only because his captors turned the light out on him, and day when they turned it on again. Thankfully, the "Boss" left him alone most of the day. Every few hours or so one armed minion or another would take him out to use the bathroom, a dingy little stall just next to the room he was being held in, or bring him some food. They didn't torture or torment him. They just left him all alone in an empty room with nothing to do.

Nothing but worry. Ian was normally calm, the calmest person he knew. But something like this...and he knew what Don had done, had been willing to do to get Megan Reeves back. How much further would he go for his brother. What if saving him destroyed them all?

Sometime after his third meal of the day, the door opened again, but this time it was the Boss himself. Charlie scrambled up from the place he'd taken on the floor, trying to put as much distance between them as he could.

Rivkin laughed. "You learn fast, 'Professor,'" he sneered. "Here, I have a present for you."

A manila envelope landed at Charlie's feet and he cautiously bent down to pick it up. Inside were photos of Ian and Don, taken from what looked to his inexpert eye to be a considerable distance. He could make out different locations in the background, but nothing looked familiar. Most of all, neither of them seemed like they were aware of being followed.

"Why are you doing this? Why the cat and mouse game? Afraid of what will happen when Ian finds you?"

"My reasons are mine," Rivkin growled. "All you have to know is that those pictures right there are the last time you're going to see your boyfriend alive. Now, up against the wall again and hold one of those pictures up for the camera."

Charlie complied, hoping that seeing him unbloody this time would have some sort of calming effect on Ian. But he had a feeling that whoever this guy was going to push buttons till he got what he wanted.

Rivkin snapped the picture and smiled that same empty, vicious smile. "You hang onto those, little one. Let them keep you company."

"What's with the little one?"

"Well you are the little one, aren't you? The little brother. The little professor, always chasing after the big boys. Showing off. Showing how smart you are," Rivkin said, advancing on him. "Didn't take watching you for long to see it. You're like a little puppy running after the big dogs trying to show them you can keep up."

Charlie instinctively shrank away, but soon he was pinned up against a wall with nowhere to go.

"At first I couldn't figure out what Edgerton saw in you," Rivkin purred, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder and idly stroking his collarbone with his thumb. "But now--"

He was so close, Charlie could smell him, old sweat and cigarettes, and it made his stomach churn.

His skin was crawling and he wanted to jerk away but there was nowhere to go. He hoped, prayed, Rivkin was just playing with him.

But what surer way to get into Ian's head, and Don's too, for that matter, than to rape him.

His only hope was to get Rivkin so pissed at him he'd go away. Of course, that would leave him battered and bloody and piss of Ian and Don. "You'll never be half the man Ian is."

Charlie didn't even see the hand that flew at his face, back-handing him squarely across his jaw and making him see stars. It was followed swiftly by a punch to the gut, making Charlie collapse into a fetal position on the bare floor. He coughed and fought not to retch.

"You should watch that pretty little mouth of yours, Professor. There's lots of worse things I can do to you," Rivkin growled. For good measure, he spit on Charlie before he walked away, slamming the door and lock shut.

After he left, Charlie started shaking with relief as much as pain and fear. But he knew he could only hold out so long. Eventually, he'd push too far or not enough and Rivkin would decide to follow through on his thinly veiled threat.

He should be doing something. Getting information to Ian and Don somehow with the photos. But the room was barely more descriptive than the white wall he was photographed against. No windows, so he didn't have a clue where he was. Probably still in L.A., Rivkin would want Ian to be close.

A long day of fruitless searching left Ian feeling exhausted, coupled with his night of bare rest. He sat at an empty desk in the FBI bullpen, his feet on the desk and tilted back in his chair, trying not to think about what was happening to Charlie right now. Was he being beaten? Starved? Abused? Tortured? Just thinking about it made him feel nauseous.

It was late, long past the dinner hour, and nothing on Barnes had panned out. Most of his associates were in jail or dead, and his remaining friends and family had seemed happier with Barnes away than wanting revenge for it.

The sound of his phone beeping startled him, but without lookig at it, he knew what it would be: another picture of Charlie.

Charlie looked a little better this time. Sleep deprived, scared, but Ian couldn't see any fresh injuries. The background behind him was obviously the same backdrop as before.

Ian couldn't make out the details of the photo Charlie was holding until he pulled the image up on his computer and then cold fury and guilt washed over him. Whoever had Charlie had been close, close enough to take a picture. Granted, it wasn't a terribly close shot, and you could do some pretty amazing things with technology these days, but still. He'd been close enough to take the shot which meant that 1) he and Don should have realized they were being followed and 2) they'd had a chance to take someone in and make him or her tell them exactly where Charlie was being held and they'd missed it completely.

He wanted to slam his fist into the desk, wanted to punch something so bad it was a physical ache but he wasn't that stupid. A sniper with a broken hand was useless and he might very well have to take the shot of his life to save Charlie.

So instead of punching something (or someone) he went to find Don. "We have a new picture," he said tersely, handing over the phone.

Don took a look at the photo and breathed a sigh of relief that Charlie looked basically okay in this one, but his relief was short-lived when he made out the picture's details.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Don said, staring at the photo in Charlie's hands, unmistakably him and Ian. "How far away do you think?"

"Couple hundred feet maybe, far enough away to blend in," Ian said darkly.

Don shook his head. "So far, this guy is the only won putting points on the board. He's got us scrambling. If we're gonna win, we just might have to change our game plan."

"Agent Eppes, more of those numbers," the forensics tech said. He displayed them for Don and Ian.

"Rivkin." Ian clenched his fist. "Those are his inmate serial numbers."

Don looked at him sharply, glad to finally have a confirmed subject. "Tell me everything you know about him and his known associates."

Ian quickly filled him in on his case with Rivkin, how he had tracked him down when he ran, and how, when he was put away, his wife entered witness protection with their two kids. He'd already lost a lot, which was how he had gotten into drugs in the first place. Losing his family and kids just might have been the last straw for him.

"How dangerous is this guy, Ian? How likely is he to --" Don stopped, cleared his throat, and forced himself to continue. "To kill Charlie?"

"I honestly don't know, Don," Ian said quietly. "When he went in, not likely. He was violent, yes, but not to the point of murder. Now, after losing everything and after having been locked up? Who knows. All I am sure of right now... we had better find Charlie sooner rather than later."

"Do you have any idea where he might be keeping him? Any idea where he might go?"

"The bank seized everything from him when he was arrested, so he doesn't have any property left," Ian said. He reached for Rivkin's file. "His wife would have given up all her property rights when she went into witness protection. But... that doesn't mean they're occupied. There, she had two properties in the LA area. The house that she shared with Rivkin, and an apartment building. Either one of them could have a concrete basement. Pull up those photos again."

The tech obliged, putting both photos side by side.

"Is it possible to determine a light source from these photos?"

"Sure." The tech pushed some buttons, ran the photo through some algorithm (probably one of Charlie's Ian thought grimly to himself) and some numbers were spit out. "The light power looks like it is coming from a single spot in the room. No other light source."

"No windows," Ian said. "Like a water closet or electrical closet for a large building."

"Could be just about anywhere. We should start with his old properties though. Do some surveillance until we can find out what we're dealing with." Don itched for action as much as Ian. He wanted to do something. But he realized charing into an unknown situation was stupid at best and could get one of them killed at worst.

"Surveillance?" Ian said, his voice rising. Don gave him a hard look and Ian subsided. "Surveillance. Right."

He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his lips. He felt like they were so close, so damn close to getting Charlie back, the adrenaline thrummed under his skin. He need to go out there and get him back. Suddenly, an idea struck him.

"Don... they've got someone keeping track of me, right? Someone reporting back to Rivkin all the torment I'm going through or something. If we stop going out there and looking, Rivkin will do something to Charlie to get my attention. I need to be out there, looking for him still."

"You're right," Don said. "You and me both. Do you think he knows the rest of my team?" He wanted David, Colby and Nikki to watch their backs, and Charlie's but sending them to investigate his properties would be just as dangerous as going themselves if Rivkin and his pal knew who they were.

Ian shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I think he probably only knows about you because he's seen you with me. I think he was too focused on me and Charlie to worry about the reinforcements."

"That's good. Okay, we'll work under that assumption. You three go check out the properties, do it quietly. Get surveillance teams up and running there. Check in every hour. Alright? Go." Don made shooing motions at the rest of his team.

"We'll find him," Colby said, squeezing Don's arm and nodding at Ian.

"So now do we pound the pavement or sleep?"

"Rivkin would expect us to be working ourselves to the bone. I say we pound the pavement." A mischievous smile crossed Ian's face. "Maybe we can wear these guys out a little, get them to make a mistake and show themselves."

"I could go for that."

They spent the next several hours waking people up to ask them questions, poking into dive bars and drug dens. Ian kept himself on high alert, waiting to see if he could catch their tail.

Eventually, the thinning numbers of people on the streets gave them the advantage. After climbing into his SUV, Ian caught a glimpse of someone climbing into a truck, several cars behind him. "Don, black truck, three cars behind us."

"Got it. What's your plan? Try to bring him in? Or wait until he returns to whatever hole he crawled out of?"

Ian smirked. "We've been toyed with this whole time. Rivkin wants me to find him. Or rather, he wants me to go blundering into whatever trap he's using Charlie to bait. But first he wants to see me confused and chasing my tail. I'm betting if we keep acting like we're clueless, Rivkin won't be able to resist telling us exactly where he is."

"But will he hurt Charlie again before he does?"

Biting his lip, Ian shook his head. "I really don't know. I'm afraid if we try following this guy behind us back to where he started, or if we take him in and he fails to check in with Rivkin, that he'll hurt Charlie anyway. What scares the hell out of me is that he might hurt Charlie no matter what we do."

"Yeah," Don said grimly. "Me, too. But at least the injuries, bad as they are, don't appear to have caused permanent damage."

"Yeah." Privately, Ian was worried that it meant the worst injuries for Charlie were still in store. If Rivkin planned for Ian to show up alone, then he almost certainly planned on killing Charlie as well.

Don and Ian led their tail on a merry chase for most of the rest of the night. Even Ian had to admit that the guy was good, doing all the things right that a tail should do. Ian lost track of him a couple times, but now that he knew what to look for, he had no trouble picking him up again.

Finally, as the next day broke, Don turned to Ian. "Think that was enough?"

"If Rivkin holds to pattern, we'll know tonight when I get another picture."

"Then we should get some sleep. I'll have David and Colby switch out with Nikki. We need to be well rested for this."

Ian nodded, feeling the familiar adrenaline start to pump through his body. Things were coming to a head, and his hands itched for the feel of his rifle.

....

Rivkin nearly laughed out loud when he was shown the pictures of Edgerton and Eppes running around LA like chickens. They were looking in all the wrong places, trying to get a hint of him, trying to find some lead on where he was hiding. And all this time, they had all the answers they needed in his file if they would just bother to look.

No one seemed to take particular note of the van parked just up the street.

Charlie tried to sleep, but his accommodations weren't very comfortable and he started awake at the smallest noise. He kept trying to think of something he should be doing, something he could communicate to Ian or Don but always came up empty.

All he could do was hope that Ian and Don had already figured out that they were going to walk into a trap if they came for him and were taking the time to try and plan a way around it.

He fervently wished that Rivkin had given him a scrap piece of paper and something to write with at least. Even a piece of chalk would do with the smooth concrete floor. As it was, the only thing he had to occupy himself with was the lone picture of Ian and Don that Rivkin had allowed him to keep.

He traced Ian and Don's image over and over again. He'd tried to do math in his head but even that wasn't working its usual magic of distraction. He heard the key in the door and braced himself for another round.

The guy he'd come to think of as The Boss practically sauntered in, holding a fresh set of photographs. "Your boyfriend is running around all of LA looking for you. I thought he was supposed to be smart," he taunted. "He's supposed to be the best. He hasn't got a fucking clue where you are."

Ian was also a master of misdirection. If he was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, there was a reason for it. Hopefully the reason wasn't that Don and Ian had both let anger and worry cloud their decision making.

"He's worried about me," Charlie said quietly. "I--sometimes I cloud his thinking."

"I'd say you're definitely doing that, now." Rivkin crouched down in front of Charlie. "I ought to bloody you up again, really keep him off balance." He stroked his fingertips over Charlie's face.

Charlie fought not to flinch.

"And maybe I should do something else. Even bloodied you're still a pretty toy."

Charlie refused to give this man the satisfaction of hearing him beg or seeing him tremble. Instead, he stuck his chin out in stubborn defiance. "I don't even know your name."

Rivkin laughed, low and dangerous. "You are a funny little one, I will say that. But you're right. We haven't been properly introduced. Michael Rivkin at your service. You won't live to be able to do anything with the name anyway."

He stroked his fingers over Charlie's cheek again. "I think I'll save you for later, when the big hero is here. Make him watch while I have you. Won't that be fun?"

"Somehow, I don't think you'll have that opportunity."

"We'll see, Professor. We'll see." Rivkin handed him the new photographs and then ruffled his hair teasingly before leaving the room again.

Charlie waited until he heard the bolt slide shut before letting the shakes take him over.

Once his trembling had stopped he forced himself to think. He was virtually certain he'd never helped Ian with a case on Rivkin and was almost as sure that he'd never heard the name before.

Which meant that this whole cat and mouse game had nothing to do with him. He was just a convenient device to lure Ian in. Part of him wondered, not for the first time, whether Ian's choice of partner had gotten them into all this. If Ian had been seeing another agent instead of him, maybe Rivkin would have taken a more direct route, would have made more mistakes. If Ian hadn't been distracted by him, maybe he would have listened to his instincts and discovered Rivkin following him that first night.

Charlie sighed and looked at Ian's picture. "Please, be safe," he said, caressing the photo.

....

Several hours later, after at least one meal and bathroom break, Rivkin reappeared with his camera.

"Are going for bloody or not bloody this time?" Charlie asked tiredly.

Rivkin actually chuckled. "Seems to me that your boyfriend isn't really trying hard enough. I think he needs some more motivation, don't you? Stand up."

Charlie tried to brace himself for the inevitable slap across the face, but it didn't come. Instead, Rivkin punched him, instantly splitting his lip and leaving him feeling dazed. He shut down after that, not bothering to catalog the hits he took. There weren't a lot, but his face felt twice the size of normal when it was all done. Just for good measure, apparently, Rivkin kicked him in the stomach, taking his picture as he doubled over in pain.

Ian stared at the image on his cellphone for a long time. He knew he had to keep calm, be rational, not let himself get affected by emotion. There was only one way he knew how to do that.

He stalked over to Don's cubicle, part of his mind noticing how everyone was subtly backing away from him. He put the phone on Don's desk. Don took one look at his face and visibly braced himself before looking at the new image. "Jesus, Ian," Don whispered, paling.

"I'm going to the gun range."

"When will you be back?"

"When I run out of bullets," he growled, then checked himself. "An hour."

Don didn't bother asking if Ian wanted company. He let him go to let off some steam, hoping that shooting at paper targets for a while would be enough to keep Ian from snapping and killing the people involved in doing this to Charlie.

He looked at the photo on Ian's phone again, cataloging the blood and the bruises. "We're coming, buddy. I promise," Don said to the picture before handing it over to the techs. He was halfway there when the phone buzzed again, with a text message.

"You have all the information you need. Focus on the bitch's building."

"Nikki! Call the shooting range, tell them to find Ian and tell him to get back here ASAP!" Don snapped. He took off at a run, hoping to catch Ian before he left the building but knowing he was probably too late.

The FBI range wasn't far from the FBI building, so Ian decided to walk it rather than risk driving. He didn't trust himself right now to be able to see the road clearly. He was just opening the doors when one of the attendants ran out to him. "Agent Edgerton... Agent Betancourt has been calling. Agent Eppes needs you back right away."

Ian's eyes went wide for a second and without a word he turned and headed back at a run.

....

He was still running by the time the elevator doors finally opened on Don's floor. "We got something?" he called over the cubes.

"Rivkin." Don showed him the text message. "You were right. He wants you to find him. Colby and David just checked in from the apartment building. There hasn't been much obvious activity. They're sending us photos of the guys who've been going in and out now."

"He must know we'd go in with a full complement of guys. We're sure this is actually the place? Any signs it's been rigged to explode?"

Don shook his head. "The guys are doing what they can from their vantage point, but if they get any closer they might tip Rivkin off early. We just have his word on it and the fact that his arrogance wants him to be found."

"A trade then," Ian said. "He'll promise to trade me for Charlie and then double-cross."

Don nodded slowly. "Murder suicide? What about the rest of the guys there?"

"Once he has me, there's no telling what he'll do," Ian said. "I don't think he cares what happens to him as long as he gets his revenge. All I know is that we know where Charlie is. We have to go get him. Before..."

Don squeezed Ian's shoulder. "Alright. So, what's the plan?"

"He wants me to show up alone. Let's give him what he wants. If I show up alone, he'll think he won. And then you'll be able to bring your team in and get us out."

"All right," Don said. He didn't like it, but they didn't have time to come up with a better plan.

"I'll do my best to get Rivkin to let Charlie go first, get him out of the house. If I can't do that, Charlie will be my responsibility. I'll make sure he's safe above all else, okay?" Ian said.

Don nudged him toward the locker room. "I want you in a vest."

"He's not going to shoot me, Don. That'd be too easy."

"I want you in a vest anyway. He might make you take it off, but I want you in it at least until you get to Charlie."

"Okay." They didn't have time to fight about it, and he could always try and give it to Charlie.

Don pulled tac gear for himself and called Nikki in to start getting geared up herself. Then he called Colby and David and let them know the plan. He could tell none of them liked it any more than he did, but he wasn't above using his clout as the boss to get them to comply. He looked at Ian.

"We'll be right behind you," he said. "Don't do anything stupid, okay? I don't want to think about what Charlie would be like if... if you..."

"Hey. You, too, okay?" Ian said.

....

Ian drove up in front of the apartment Rivkin's ex-wife had owned. The building was pretty obviously abandoned, but the door looked new. There were no windows in the foundation that would indicate there was a basement. Looking around subtly as he got out, he spotted the surveillance van Colby and David had been using just up the street. He knew Don and the cavalry were waiting just up the street. There were many things that could go wrong with this, but Charlie was inside. That was all that mattered.

Charlie's head lifted as the door to the basement opened. Rivkin gave him a smile that made his stomach knot. "Your boyfriend is here. On your feet."

Scrambling to his feet, Charlie frowned. Rivkin was way too calm for his liking. Did that mean that Ian was alone? Where was Don? Had Ian ditched him to come hunt Rivkin down himself?

"What are you going to do now?" Charlie asked.

Rivkin stepped forward, into his personal space and his gaze made a slow trip up and down Charlie's body. "Exactly what I promised I'd do, little one."

Charlie felt his stomach drop through his shoes, sure that Rivkin actually meant to rape him this time. But he didn't have much time to contemplate that as two of Rivkin's thugs brought Ian in. He didn't look like he was resisting, just calmly presenting himself to Rivkin.

"Ian!" Charlie cried out, unable to help himself.

Rivkin smacked him across the mouth. "Silence, little one."

Ian swallowed hard, but didn't try to struggle. "It's okay, Charlie. I'm here. Let him go, Rivkin. It's me you really want."

"It's not you I want, Edgerton. It was never you. I want to destroy your life the same way you destroyed mine. I want to hurt everyone and everything you love and I want them to blame you for it."

"Then you've already failed," Charlie said, though his mouth hurt where Rivkin had smacked him. "I could never blame Ian for what's happening here. You're the one doing this to us."

Rivkin growled and slammed Charlie against the wall, brandishing a knife against his throat. "I told you to be quiet! Or you won't even get the chance to scream before I gut you where you stand."

"Charlie!" Ian said, automatically moving toward him, but Rivkin's men were faster, holding him still by the arms as he struggled. "I'm going to kill you, Rivkin. I promise."

"Maybe," Rivkin said, not moving from where he had Charlie pinned. "Probably. But not in time to save your pretty little boyfriend. Is that why you fuck him? 'Cause he's so pretty?"

"I love him," Ian said quietly, willing Charlie to look at him and holding his eye contact when he did. "Please. Don't hurt him. He hasn't done anything to you."

Mentally, Ian started counting down. Ten minutes. That's what he and Don agreed on. Ten minutes for him to try to get Charlie out and then he'd come in. He just hoped they were both okay when Don made it inside.

"Well I love my wife and kids, and you took them from me!" He pressed the knife in against Charlie's neck, hard enough to draw blood. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't do the same thing to you."

Charlie's eyes went wide and he looked desperately at Ian. They both knew that there was no reason he could give that would stop Rivkin from killing him.

"Wait! Just, wait," Ian pleaded, putting on his best performance. "Please. Just--let me kiss him once before you... before. Please."

A few more minutes. They had to hang on for just a few more minutes.

"Please," Charlie whispered, not bothering to hide the tears that stung his eyes. "Do it for me."

Rivkin pressed the knife to Charlie's throat harder for a moment and then suddenly relented. "Go ahead. Just keep in mind that I'm doing this because it amuses me, not because of your tears, little one. It'll just make your boyfriend's pain worse when I kill you."

Charlie took a few steps forward, waiting for Rivkin to pull him back.

Nodding at his men, Rivkin motioned them to let Ian go.

Ian instantly pulled Charlie into his arms, holding him tight against him. "Don's outside," he whispered in his ear, low and urgent. "Hang on. When I tell you, get down."

Charlie pulled back and looked up into Ian's face, stroking his thumbs over Ian's cheekbones. "I love you, too," he murmured, pulling him down into a kiss.

an held on tightly, determined not to let go of Charlie ever again. The kiss was desperate, hungry. Ian could feel Charlie's heart racing.

Suddenly, a loud crash from upstairs got everyone's attention. Shouts of "FBI!" and the sound of many people rushing in soon followed.

"Down, down. Get down!" Ian urged, shoving Charlie quickly under the bunk. One of Rivkin's men lunged for him as the other shoved the door shut, bracing against it. Ian aimed a kick at his attacker's knee, neatly disarming him as he went down. The second man had just managed to pull his gun when Ian turned and fired, hitting him in the chest and killing him. He moved automatically in front of Charlie to defend him. "You didn't really think I came alone, did you?" Ian taunted.

"You didn't think I'd be that stupid, did you? The house is wired to explode."

"And if I just shoot you," Ian asked. "What then?"

"Then, I drop this," Rivkin said, holding up a dead man's switch. "You have no way out, Edgerton."

"If I don't, neither do you, Rivkin." Ian paused, licking his lips. "Do you really think that if I hadn't taken you down your wife would have stuck around? You were out of control, taking bigger risks, pulling bigger crimes. Someone had to rein you in. You haven't really hurt anyone yet. If you just put that down, we can talk. How do you want this to end?"

"I've got a big advantage over you, Edgerton. I don't have anything left to live for."

Ian strained to listen to the sounds in the rest of the building, praying that Don's team had found the wiring and managed to disconnect it. But with the door closed, he couldn't hear anything.

"Just let Charlie go. He doesn't deserve this. He shouldn't have to pay for what I've done," Ian said quietly.

"I'm not leaving you," Charlie said, from underneath the bed.

"Charlie, don't argue with me..."

"He's not going anywhere anyway," Rivkin said. "Tell me, Edgerton. What does it feel like, knowing that your lover is going to die because of you? That you'll probably take his brother with you? Does it make you wonder where you went wrong? Does it fill you with despair?"

Ian's finger twitched on the trigger, everything inside him screaming to take Rivkin out. "No. Because even if we die here, I got to have Charlie this long. That's more than I ever thought I'd get. And I can comfort myself knowing that you'll never hurt anyone ever again."

"Isn't that sweet," Rivkin said. "Shame it won't do you any good." Opening his hand, Rivkin let the dead man's switch drop.

Ian instantly took his shot and dropped in one smooth motion, putting himself between Charlie and the rest of the house.

It took him a few seconds to realize that nothing had happened. Don had gotten to the bomb in time. Thank God.

He held out a hand to Charlie. "It's okay, Charlie," he said softly. "It's okay, you can come out."

Charlie crawled out cautiously, taking Ian's hand. "What--what happened?"

"Ian!" Don's voice came through the door. "Are you okay? Do you have Charlie?"

"We're fine, Don. We're coming out," Ian said, wrapping his arm around Charlie's shoulders. "You okay, Professor?" he asked quietly.

"How did you know? How did you know that the bomb wouldn't go off?"

Ian glanced at Charlie and squeezed him tight. "I didn't. But I really, really hoped that your brother had gotten to it first."

Charlie clung to Ian tightly. It was all catching up to him now. The fear, the despair. He turned to look at Rivkin but Ian turned him away. "Don't look," he said softly.

Charlie's legs felt shaky. His distress must have communicated itself to Ian because he scooped Charlie up in his arms, staggering a little under the weight. Charlie slipped his arms over Ian's neck and buried his face in the junction of neck and shoulder. "Close your eyes," Ian murmured. "I'll get you out of here."

Charlie felt faintly ridiculous, but he didn't care. Ian's strong arms were around him and making sure he was safe.

"Ian... Is he okay?" Don asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be alright. I just want to get him out of here."

Don nodded and walked with him, helping support him up the stairs as Colby and David went to clear the room. "EMTs are waiting outside. Rivkin?"

"Dead."

"Is that blood?" Don asked, concerned.

"Just a nick. He had a knife," Charlie said softly.

"God," Don said, the impact of that simple statement hitting him full force.

Ian got him down the stairs of the building and over to the ambulance waiting there. They immediately took a look at Charlie's neck and his other associated bruises and cuts.

"Ian?" Charlie said, his hand searching for Ian's hand.

Ian grasped it and squeezed, understanding Charlie's need not to be too far away right now.

"I'm right here, Charlie. Right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Charlie winced as one of the techs put in a saline drip.

"Don?"

"I'm here," Don said, coming into view.

"Thank you," Charlie said thickly. "Both of you."

Don knelt down in front of Charlie, one hand on his knee. "How are you feeling?"

Charlie shook his head, too many emotions crashing over him. "It's all really starting to hit me, now. I was so scared--scared for you guys, too. I wanted to try to get a message to you, but I didn't know how--"

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Charlie. We're here now," Don soothed. "Can-can you tell me what happened?"

"They came after me on campus. Knocked me out. I woke up in that room where you found me."

"They fed me and let me use the bathroom, but most of the time they just let me alone. Except when Rivkin would come in to take the pictures of me." Charlie shuddered. "He-he said he didn't want to hurt me, but--"

Ian squeezed Charlie's hand tight, wanting to just wrap him in his arms and get him as far away from that house as possible.

"How did you find me?"

"Rivkin. He all but told us where he was keeping you," Ian replied. "He was baiting me."

"He showed me pictures of you. Of both of you."

"I'm sorry," Ian whispered, squeezing Charlie's hand again. "I'm so sorry you got dragged into this."

Just then the EMTs finished up. "You can take him home. He needs fluids and rest, and the bandage on his neck will need to be changed, but otherwise he's okay."

"Hey. This isn't your fault," Charlie said firmly. "It's not."

"Still feels like it," Ian said quietly.

Don squeezed Charlie's knee and then stood, patting Ian on the shoulder. "Why don't you take him home? We can finish up here. You both could use some rest."

"Thanks, Don," Ian said. "You get some rest, too, okay?"

"I will. I love you," he said quietly, ruffling Charlie's hair.

Impulsively, Charlie reached out and drew Don into a hug, squeezing him tight. "I love you, too."

Don patted Charlie's shoulder and then gently pushed him into Ian's arms.

Ian put his arm around Charlie, holding him against his side. He didn't ever want to let go again.

They walked to Ian's car in silence, still processing everything that had happened. Once safely in the car and on their way, Charlie tried to break their constant contact, but he didn't like even being six inches from Ian and not touching him. He gently put a hand on his knee.

"Sorry," he said softly. "I don't want to distract you, but I can't not touch you right now."

Ian placed his hand over Charlie's. "Don't worry about it. You're not distracting me."

"I'd be more distracted if you weren't touching me." He gently squeezed Charlei's hand. He was pretty sure he was headed for his own freakout, the one he'd been carefully avoiding because he couldn't afford it while Charlie was in danger.

"Recovering from this is going to suck, isn't it?" Charlie asked, staring out the windsheild.

Ian couldn't supress a chuckle. "Yeah. We're probably both heading for a PTSD evaluation and at least some therapy to deal with it. But we'll be together. That's something."

Charlie nodded in agreement. "We can have a few days of sex first, right? Before we do all that?"

"Yeah, Charlie," Ian said, voice rough with emotion. "We can do that."

He cleared his throat, consciously regaining control over himself. "And I'll stay as long as you need me." He didn't have as many vacation days as he used to, but he still had some. And if he really was suffering from PTSD, he shouldn't be cleared for field duty anyway. And if they cleared him and Charlie still needed him and he was out of leave, well, he'd either go into debt or quit. Charlie came first. Always.

And maybe it was time he thought more seriously about moving out here.

"Thank you," Charlie said, squeezing Ian's knee. "I love you so much. When I thought--I was so worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Ian said quietly. "We tried to get to you sooner. I know you must have been terrified. I kept thinking about you--Don kept me sane."

"I was more scared for you than I was for myself at the time," Charlie confessed. "I knew you had to be going out of your mind. I'm glad that Don was there to help you. I'm sure you helped him, too."

Finally, they arrived back at the Craftsman and Ian could stop the car, pulling Charlie over for a deep, passionate kiss.

He held Charlie tightly again, but made himself back off much earlier than he wanted to. "Your dad's been worried, too. I know he'll want to see you."

Charlie nodded solemnly. "Let's go. Then, all I want to do is spend a lot of time in my own bed."

Ian wrapped his arm around Charlie's shoulders as soon as they were both out of the car. "I'll be right there with you. I'll take care of you."

"You always do," Charlie said, kissing Ian once more before he opened the door.

Not always, Ian thought. If he had, Charlie never would have been kidnapped in the first place.

"Charlie! Ian!" Alan cried as soon as he crossed the threshold. "My god, boys... you're home." He hesitated for a split second and then pulled Charlie into a hug. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," Charlie said. He let his dad hold him for a long moment.

"Are you okay?"

"I am, just a few cuts and bruises."

"Thank god. Ian," Alan said, pulling Ian into another hug. "Thank you. Thank you for rescuing my son."

"It wasn't just me," he said, embarrassed. "And it's my fault Charlie was kidnapped in the first place."

"Stop it," Charlie said firmly. "It is not your fault. I can't stand listening to you blame yourself. You did what you needed to do then and now. You're one of the best men I know and one of the best at your job."

"And I'm very grateful for that," Alan said.

"Why don't you get Charlie settled on the couch and then I'll make some dinner. I'm sure you want some privacy, but you need to eat first."

Spoken like a true Jewish mother, Ian thought. He just smiled and tugged Charlie over to the couch. They sat next to each other, just cuddling for a long time.

"I'm glad you're safe," Ian said, running his fingers through Charlie's hair. "And I meant what I said, I'm here for as long as you need me."

"I might need you for a long time," Charlie admitted softly.

"That can be arranged," Ian replied. He dipped his head and kissed Charlie softly. "You're the most important thing in my life, Charlie. I'll do whatever it takes."

"And if the FBI won't give me the time, I'll quit."

"You can't quit the FBI!" Charlie said.

Under other circumstances Ian would have smiled at how scandalized Charlie sounded. "Of course I can. And if they force me to, I will. In a heartbeat."

"They would never let you. You're too valuable," Charlie said.

Ian did smile then because he could see the math start to run behind Charlie's eyes, probably doing some kind of cost and benefit analysis as to what him leaving the Bureau would mean. It was good to see some of that spark.

"Then they'd best let me have my time off," he murmured. He kissed Charlie's temple.

Charlie turned his head and captured Ian's lips. It felt so good to have him as a solid presence next to him after seriously wondering if he'd ever get to see him again.

Discreetly, Alan cleared his throat. "I have sandwiches and some snacks made out on the table. I can go upstairs and eat if you want to be alone."

"Eat with us, Dad," Charlie said.

"Please," Ian added. "I know this had been hard for you, too."

"I'm just glad you're both safe," Alan said, squeezing Ian's shoulder. "Come on, let's eat something."

Charlie and Ian followed him to the table, and he couldn't supress a soft moan of pleasure at his first bite. It was just a simple sandwich, but it had been made by his Dad instead of nameless thugs who might try to drug him. Just then, it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. After a few more bites, he managed to start feeling more human.

"Hey, where's my car?" he asked suddenly.

"In evidence," Ian said. "It was pretty torn up."

"Do I want to know what they did to it?" Charlie asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Probably not, Professor," Ian said with a wince.

Charlie just shook his head. "Guess that means you're going to have to chauffeur me everywhere for a while then."

"With pleasure."

"But hey, maybe the insurance company will buy you a new one."

"It'd be my second total loss in two years. They are so going to hate me."

Ian pressed a kiss to Charlie's temple in sympathy. "It'll be okay."

The rest of the meal passed in quiet conversation, updating Charlie on what had happened in the world since he'd been--occupied. It was only a few days, but it felt like an eternity.

"I'll take care of the dishes. Why don't you boys go upstairs?" Alan suggested. "I'm sure Charlie would like a proper shower. And he could use someone to make sure he doesn't pass out." Ian and Charlie both look exhausted. He was pretty sure whatever their plans were they'd both fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

"That sounds like a good idea," Ian said, taking Charlie's hand and heading for the bathroom. "Thanks, Alan. For everything."

It may have gotten a little lost in all the fear and desperation, but Ian hadn't forgotten that Alan practically had called him his son. It meant more to him than Ian had the words to express right then. Thankfully, it seemed like Alan understood what he was trying to say.

"You're welcome."

Ian wrapped an arm around Charlie and led him upstairs. Once there he turned the shower on hot and slowly stripped Charlie of his clothes, automatically noting every bruise, every scrap and cut.

"Come in with me," Charlie said, tugging on Ian's shirt and pressing his naked body against him. "I need to feel you."

Ian nodded and quickly and efficiently stripped himself. He stepped into the shower and held out a hand for Charlie.

Charlie took it and immediately pressed up against Ian, the warm water cascading around them. He ran his hands over Ian's hips and down to his ass, holding him close. "You feel amazing... perfect. I need you, Ian, especially after..."

"After what?"

Ducking his head, Charlie avoided Ian's eyes. "He--Rivkin--he threatened to-to rape me. And make you watch."

Ian growled. Rivkin had gotten off far too easy.

He wanted to hunt him down, torture him, and then kill him again for good measure. As it was, all Ian could do was hope fervently that Rivkin was burning somewhere in hell.

"Anything you want," Ian murmured against Charlie's skin, gently licking the side of his neck and up to behind his ear.

Charlie shivered and held on tight. He wanted to forget, all of it. All of the pain and fear and worry. He wanted to ignore the fact that he no longer felt safe, anywhere, and he hated that, because Ian had always made him feel safe before.

"I'm here, Professor," Ian murmured in his ear, letting his hands roam along his body. "I'm right here. I've got you."

He kissed Charlie deeply, slow and sensual. He trailed his fingers down Charlie's stomach, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking once.

Charlie made a soft sound. "Help me forget," he whispered. "If only for a little while."

"I will. I promise." Ian stroked Charlie again, more firmly this time. He leaned back against the shower wall, letting Charlie rest his weight against him, not wanting him to have the sense memory of being pinned to a wall. The angle was more awkward this way, but Ian made it work, kissing Charlie over and over and stroking him steadily.

"Ian," Charlie whispered between kisses. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Charlie," Ian said, drinking in the soft, needy noises that Charlie made. "So much."

Increasing the pace of his strokes, Ian moved to lick and nip at Charlie's collarbone, avoiding any bruises.

Charlie moaned softly. "Ian!" He kissed him again and again, holding on to Ian as best he could.

"Come when you're ready, Professor. I won't let you fall," he purred in Charlie's ear. "Let go. Let me see you come."

"Ian!" Charlie came with a sob and Ian easily supported his weight as his knees became weak.

"That's it... that's my beautiful, beautiful Professor," Ian murmured, stroking Charlie's back and holding him tight, making sure he didn't slip. He eased him through the aftershocks, soothing him with his hands and his voice.

Charlie buried his face in Ian's shoulder. "What about you?"

"When you're ready, I'll take you in the bedroom and make love to you, nice and slow, help you forget for a little longer," Ian said. "Right now, we should wash up."

Charlie let Ian wash his hair and his body, then returned the favor, taking his time, lingering in Ian's favorite places and occasionally pressing a kiss to slippery flesh.

"Charlie," Ian moaned softly, happy just to have him back in his arms.

Eventually, the water started to run cold, so they finally finished washing and got out. Ian wrapped Charlie in a towel, tenderly drying him off before leading him into the bedroom.

It felt really, really good to be back in his own bed, with the man he loved. "I'm sorry," Charlie said quietly.

"Sorry about what, Professor?" Ian asked, crawling naked under the sheets with him and taking him in his arms.

"Everything. For letting myself get kidnapped. If you'd been with someone else--"

"Hush," Ian said gently. "If I don't get to blame myself, you don't get to blame yourself either. Besides, I could never be with anyone but you."

"I don't want to be with anyone but you. Ever."

"Good, that's settled then," Ian said. He rolled onto his side so he could face Charlie. "I'm yours. All yours. Forever." He caressed Charlie's cheek gently.

"And I'm yours," Charlie replied. Leaning in, he pressed a sweet, soft kiss to Ian's lips.

Savoring the kiss for a moment, Ian let his eyes slip closed. When he opened them, a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips. "We should rest."

Momentary panic went through him because he knew he'd be having violent nightmares for a long, long time. "What happened to sex?"

"I said we should rest. I didn't say we had to," Ian replied, kissing Charlie deeply. "I was just giving you the option."

"I want you to make me forget for just a little longer, please," Charlie replied.

"Okay," Ian said, concerned. "You know whatever happens, I'm here for you, and I love you. Nothing will change that."

"I know," Charlie said, looking at a point on Ian's shoulder as he ran his hands along the soft skin. "I'm just not looking forward to the emotional fallout from this, the nightmares. I want to hold them back a little longer."

Ian smiled softly at him. "I can do that for you. Come here," he said, rolling onto his back and opening his arms. He kissed Charlie slow and soft for a long time until gradually each kiss became more heated and filled with passion.

Charlie made soft, needy sounds. His hands caressed Ian's warm, familiar body. Arms and shoulders, muscular back, tight ass, which he squeezed gently, and back up again.

The gentle tender attention drove Ian's arousal steadily higher, until he was hard and needy. He nipped hard at Charlie's collarbone, leaving his own bruise behind. "Wanna ride me?" he purred in Charlie's ear.

"Yes," Charlie whispered. "God, yes."

Ian grabbed the lube from it's customary spot and coated his fingers, slipping a hand between Charlie's legs to explore his entrance. He prepared Charlie slowly, keeping up the kissing and touching as he went and letting Charlie get lost in the sensations.

Charlie once again gave himself over to Ian's care. He tried to continue pleasing Ian, opening for him and pressing kisses everywhere he could reach. At some point this was all going to catch up with Ian, too.

Finally, when Ian was sure he wasn't going to cause Charlie any pain, he positioned himself at Charlie's entrance, pushing just the head in.

Charlie groaned, sinking the rest of the way down on Ian's cock, moaning as that familiar full feeling washed over him.

He held himself still for a moment, letting both their bodies adjust.

"Charlie... Charlie," Ian chanted, immediately lost to the sensation of being so deep inside that welcoming body. "Fuck, I missed you."

"I missed you, too. Oh, God, Ian, I missed you so much!"

Ian wrapped his hands around Charlie's hips, arching up into him. "Let me feel you, Charlie," he murmured, pressing his fingertips into his skin. "God you feel so good."

Charlie rode Ian slowly, easily, occasionally leaning down to kiss him. "I love you."

"God... love you. I love you too," Ian gasped, his hips starting to shift up to meet Charlie as he pushed down. All that heat and pressure, god, being with Charlie was like nothing else he knew. Nothing could ever be this good. "Charlie!"

"Ian," he moaned. They moved together with the ease that came from intimate familiarity with each other's body. "Ian!"

Charlie was hard again, leaking from the tip, and Ian licked his lips, wishing he could taste him. Instead he wrapped his hand around Charlie's cock and started stroking. "Come for me. Want you to come so I can taste you."

Charlie waited until Ian stroked him a few more times, then came loudly, spilling over Ian's hand.

Stroking Charlie through the orgasm, Ian gathered as much of his semen as he could so he could lick it off his fingers.

Charlie groaned, his hips shifting needfully still. "Ian... need to feel you come. Please."

Ian obediently thrust a few more times, hands on Charlie's hips to steady him, gaze on Charlie's face when the pleasure became too much and he came.

"Ian..." Charlie murmured, leaning down to kiss his chest and nuzzle against his collarbone. "Thank you for coming after me, for always taking care of me."

"I love you, Charlie," he said simply. "I'm always going to come after you, and take care of you."

"I love you, too," Charlie said. He finally pushed himself off Ian, unsteady legs shaking. He wrapped his arms around Ian's chest and sighed in relief when Ian held him tight. "I'm afraid to go to sleep," he admitted.

"I'm right here. I'll chase all the nightmares away. I promise," Ian said quietly, caressing Charlie's arm and shoulder. "I'll protect you."

Charlie nodded and closed his eyes, trying to relax, trying to sleep. Trying to believe he was finally safe.


End file.
